


save your breath, habibi

by celosiaa



Series: JM + Emma [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asthma, Hurt/Comfort, JM adopted a child, Jordanian Jon, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, arabic-speaking jon, its another asthma fic is anyone surprised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26681461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/pseuds/celosiaa
Summary: Jon foolishly took NyQuil, and now he's having a nocturnal asthma flare up smh
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: JM + Emma [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909813
Comments: 14
Kudos: 125
Collections: Emmaverse AU





	save your breath, habibi

**Author's Note:**

> hi I am sorry about the title I could nOT think of one lmao
> 
> For those who don't know, this is part of a long-form series about Jonmartin and their adopted daughter, Emma. There will be snippets, oneshots, and multi-chaptered fics spotlighting on their family dynamic! Not all of them will be in order of linear time, so I will be sure to indicate Emma's age in the beginning notes of each fic.
> 
> Emma's age: 6
> 
> (Habibi/habibti = "my dear/darling/love,")

Slowly, as if floating up from the bottom of a pool, Martin drifts back into consciousness.

_No no no…_

He begs his brain to let him drift back of to sleep; he’s only just managed to get his sleep schedule back in order after working several night shifts the previous week. The worst part of it all is that his inability to adapt is a clear sign of getting older, not something he wants to think about at—

_Well, whatever time it is._

Even as he fights against it, his sleep-laden thoughts begin to clear, and that’s when he hears it: the wheezing steadily growing in volume from the other side of the bed.

_Oh, shit shit shit_

Turning at once to face him, he finds Jon on his back, the pillows he’s been sleeping propped up on while riding out this cold having somehow slid to the floor. This is exactly what Martin had worried about with the NyQuil he’d taken last night—that it tends to knock him out hard, and with his asthma already being worse than usual with the cold, it’s important to be able to wake himself up if he’s having a flare-up.

“Jon. Hey—wake up, Jon,” Martin says rather loudly as he shakes him, wincing as he realizes the noise might wake up Emma in the next room.

“Wh—“

As soon as he opens his eyes, they go wide and wild—a hand reaching up to clutch at his chest as he comes to realize what’s happening.

“Martin—“

“Alright, it’s alright—sit up, come on—"

With a firm hand behind his back, Martin guides him up to do just that—watching carefully for a moment as his eyes flutter with the sudden change in posture. It wouldn’t be the first time Jon has blacked out as a result of this—certainly last thing he needs right now.

“Alright?”

“M-Martin, I— _heh_ —“

He’s panicking—being so suddenly tossed into a world of breathlessness from sleep must be rather jarring, and Martin finds his arm being gripped tightly as he leans over to Jon’s end table to grab his inhaler.

“You’re okay, Jon. Here, come on—“

Handing him the inhaler proves to be too much for his overwhelmed mind, as Jon immediately drops it from his shaking hands, making a small noise of distress as he does.

_God, Jon._

“Okay, okay—let’s try again, you’re alright,” Martin soothes, picking it back up and helping him hold onto it this time.

“M-Mar—“

“Just save your breath, _habibi_. Try again.”

During that spare few moments as Jon steels himself to do just that, Martin hears the padding of little stockinged feet against the creaking floorboards next door, and knows they’ve woken Emma after all.

_Damn it,_ he thinks, eyeing the clock that reads out 2:37 in bold bright letters.

_Someone’s going to need a nap tomorrow._

Finally, Jon is able to pull from the inhaler, breathing as deeply as he can around the chest infection Martin is quite sure is already developing from the cold. He rubs at Jon’s back, hoping to help loosen some of the buildup enough for him to cough it out.

Just then, the door creaks open—and there stands little Emma, in her favorite sunflower hair wrap and orange footie pyjamas, a teddy bear in her hands and far more worry than ought to be covering a six-year-old’s face.

“Baba?”

At the gentle call, Jon looks up, and as always, does his best to offer her a smile.

“It’s alright— _habibti_ ,” he says, still breathless—and Martin does _not_ like the wheezing he still hears with each breath. “Sorry I—woke you.”

“You don’t sound good Baba,” she says, coming around to his side of the bed to match Martin’s circular motions across his back.

_God, what a wonderful kid._

It’s all Martin can think as he watches her as she crawls up next to him, tongue poking between her teeth as she focuses.

“She’s right, Jon. You don’t sound good,” Martin agrees, and Emma looks at him with pride—pleased that she seems to have made the right assessment. “I’m going to get the nebulizer.”

“Martin—“

“Don’t even try to stop me, _habibi_ ,” he says softly, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “And you’re getting some fever-reducers too. I don’t like—“

He motions vaguely over Jon’s entire frame.

“—any of this, really.”

The glare he receives in return is somewhat lessened in power by the dark circles under his eyes, and Martin knows his battle is won.

“Keep an eye on him for me, Doctor Emma,” he says solemnly, giving Jon a wink as he leaves the room.

As he makes his way down the hall, he hears the sounds of her scolding—all phrases borrowed from him, he’s sure—but perhaps more likely to make it through Jon’s head if given by their firecracker of a daughter.

Who was going to be _very_ grumpy in the morning.

With a small, resigned sigh, Martin collects everything he needs and heads back in—hoping to settle his family back in for what’s left to get of a good night’s sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoyed! (also did you catch the symptoms of POTS developing??? plot continuity babyyyy)
> 
> If you're interested in seeing some previews of topics to come, as well as other great stuff people have sent in about this verse, hit up my Tumblr @celosiaa and search through the #emma tag!
> 
> have a great day!  
> -love, connor


End file.
